


flowers?? pffff no, two gays covered in flour

by openacademia



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Kaito is an idiot, M/M, Mild burn injury, kaito cries like a baby, kokichi is a sarcastic baker, kokichi wears a polo shirt, shuichi is an idiot baker, together they make the disaster duo, uh home baking business au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openacademia/pseuds/openacademia
Summary: Once upon a time, Shuichi needed to drop off Kaito's medication at work.He ended up getting roped up in actually cooking something.Whoops.Written for Reichiroll: "Request/Preferences: Anything with food/baking/patisserie etc., like making it, eating, aesthetic etc"





	flowers?? pffff no, two gays covered in flour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reichiroll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reichiroll/gifts).



Shuichi swung the car door shut behind him and knocked on the back door of the repurposed warehouse. Even through the door, he could smell about fifteen different aromas from assorted baked goods. Some people got tired of picking friends up from work. Not Shuichi.

The door swung open. The smells of baking bread and cake intensified. Maki stared out at him from the door, not looking impressed. “What?” she grumbled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Uh, I’m just--,” Shuichi hefted the small prescription container. “You know. For Kaito.”

The girl nodded, rolling her eyes. “I’m pretty sure he’s by the fryer. Check there.” She turned and stalked back into the bakery. 

Shuichi stared after her, mouth open for an unsaid ‘thanks’. 

Shuichi walked in after her, making sure to close the door behind him. The back of the bakery was largely two open rooms, with the walk-in fridge and freezers on the left side of the back wall. Shuichi tried to remember where the fryer was, before the sounds and overwhelming chatter of the home baking company hit him.

“Hey, who took the buttercream I left on the counter--”

“--Watch it! I spent like an hour on that cake!”

“D--d--does anyone have the key to the back freezer?”

“Hey! Watch it, Kaito!”

Shuichi wheeled around, looking for the source of the yell.

Kaito was far off to the right, yelling somewhat pathetic apologies while holding a mesh skimmer. Maki angrily tried to rub off a long, yellow stain from her sleeve.   
“Ugh. Whatever.” She stomped away. In Kaito’s eyes following her, they also caught Shuichi.  
“Hey, Shuichi!” Kaito waved his skimmer. Then, realizing what he was waving, he put his elbow down. Right onto the oil fryer.

Kaito screeched, making everyone turn and look. Shuichi rushed over. 

“Hey, Kaito, are you okay?”

“Yeah… It’s just a little…” Kaito swore. “Yeah, it’s not okay.” He looked up with a pained attempt at a heroic smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle! I’ll just go get the first aid kit. You got my meds?” He held out his hand, other one cradling his burnt elbow.

“Y--yeah, but are you sure you’ll be okay?” Shuichi said, handing him the meds. “...Shouldn’t you go to the hospital?”

“Nah, I got first aid training. Remember? Or have you forgotten who got top marks in our group?” Kaito laughed, slapping Shuichi on the back. That jarred his elbow, and Kaito choked.

“Just… uh, keep an eye on that until I get back,” Kaito said, handing Shuichi the skimmer. He rushed toward the bathroom before Shuichi could say anything.

Shuichi stared at the small brown balls in the fryer. They looked utterly alien.

He’d only been standing there, dazed, for about a minute when he became aware of someone waving their hand in front of his face and yelling.

“--going to burn! Do you even know how to work a fryer?”

Shuichi turned toward the person. He began to stutter. “I--I’m sorry, I’m not actually--”

The hand retracted immediately, snatching the mesh skinner from Shuichi’s hand. “Nevermind. I’ll do it.” Strands of purple hair slipped out of a hair net as Shuichi’s savior (who he recognized, but couldn’t quite place the name of) vigorously scooped very brown balls of dough out of the oil and onto a nearby tray. 

“There. You overcooked them, they’re not even supposed to be half that dark. Where’s Kaito, he’s usually--” he stopped, and looked at Shuichi full in the face for the first time.

Purple eyes squinted up at Shuichi, then relaxed as the guy gave Shuichi a once-over, lingering on Shuichi’s band shirt. He bit his lip, then started digging in his jeans pocket, mumbling under his breath. He was wearing a white polo shirt and black and red apron. Pale hands, riddled with several small aged burn scars, pulled out a cell phone and immediately started scrolling down what appeared to be a list of emails. His eyes flicked over them, examining them one at a time in extremely rapid fashion.

Shuichi figured he’d seen him around, given that he was wearing the kitchen uniform, but he couldn’t quite place his name.

“You don’t work here.”

“Uh… I’m sorry?” Shuichi muttered.

“You don’t work here, because nobody sent me an email to let me know someone new was starting today.” The phone disappeared into a pocket, and Shuichi immediately found himself under scrutiny again. “Why are you here?”

“Uh, I’m a friend of Kaito’s… and Kaede’s?” Shuichi said, attempting to not seem quite as out of place. He shifted nervously, and tugged at the brim of his hat.  
“Yeah, yeah. Why are you here? And staring aimlessly at an order of overdone apple fritters that _Kaito_ was supposed to be cooking, no less.” He looked away, much to Shuichi’s relief.

“He… Kaito burned himself. He left me in charge, but I don’t… really…” Shuichi sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I just came to bring Kaito his medicine.”

The chef snorted. “Leaving someone completely clueless in front of the deep-fryer.” He offered Shuichi a hand. “Kokichi Ouma, evil mastermind and full-time pastry artist.”

“Uh… Shuichi Saihara… forensic sciences student.” 

Shuichi awkwardly went to shake Kokichi’s hand, but Kokichi grabbed his wrist instead. He cupped a hand to the side of his mouth.

“Hey, Rantaroooo! Can you cover the deep-fryer? We need thirty more apple fritters for that order by six o’ clock, and Kaito juuuust pulled a Joan of Arc,” Kokichi called.

A green-haired man stirring something on the stove looked over his shoulder, smiled, and raised a slightly dripping whisk in acknowledgement.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, you’re going to help me do something,” Kokichi said, pulling Shuichi to the sink. “Wash your hands, get an apron, I’ll take the hat.” Kokichi whisked Shuichi’s hat off his head before Shuichi had a chance to say anything.

Shuichi started washing his hands without a second thought.   
By the time Kokichi had come back, Shuichi was standing awkwardly staring in the mirror, wondering how he had gotten himself into the situation.

Kokichi grinned.

“Good to see you ready, Shuu!” He clasped his hands together. “Follow me, let’s get to work.”

Shuichi followed him blankly. 

Kokichi walked over to an unoccupied stove, and then gestured to a saucepan sitting on a ledge sorta high up. “Here, grab me that,” he said.  
Shuichi grabbed it for him.

Kokichi set the pan on the stove, poured in a small amount of water, and then started setting out various ingredients.

“What are we making?” Shuichi asked hesitantly.

Kokichi looked at him, puffing out his lip. “What are you, like, two? We’re making pate a choux, obviously.” He gave a pointed look to the pot and flour and butter on the stovetop. “What other pastry requires boiling water?”

Shuichi sputtered. “I-- I don’t know how to make pastry at all, though!”

“That much is obvious. From the looks of it, you don’t even know how to cook an apple fritter.”

“Like I said, Kaito--”

“--is a clumsy idiot, basically. Welp, water under the bridge now, because you’re going to have to help me make a croquembouche in--” Kokichi looked at the clock--”just over an hour.” 

“I-- okay, but I don’t even know what a croquembouche is!” Shuichi replied breathlessly.

Rantaro called Kokichi’s name from the deep-fryer. “If you’re making the pate a choux for the cream puffs, I already made a batch. It’s on the stove.”

Kokichi turned and stared at Rantaro for a moment. Suddenly, he burst into tears. 

“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Why didn’t you tell me?” he bawled. “Did you want me to worry? Now it’s gonna be late, all because of you!” 

Rantaro just chuckled and turned back to tend to the apple fritters. Before Shuichi could scramble to comfort him, Kokichi’s tears turned off like a faucet.

Kokichi flipped the dial on the gas stove back to zero and grabbed the pan and a convenient nearby piping bag. He expertly handled a spatula to start scraping together a ball of pale yellowish dough at the bottom of the pan. 

Shuichi scrambled to get the bag open. His fingernails scrabbled against the smooth plastic as Kokichi stood at the side, hand on hip, pouting. 

“Well, c’mon, we don’t have all day,” Kokichi said blankly.

Shuichi pulled the bag open, finally. 

“Great! Now let’s get to work.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to FixerRefutation for uh helping me make sense of this  
> and also for the concept of the disaster duo
> 
>  
> 
> i tried okay;;; im going to write something funnier in the morning


End file.
